Promise
by Halik
Summary: He was just as alone as she was. Just as lost. Trying desperately not to see another woman each time that he looked into her eyes, just as hard as she was trying to not see another man when she looked into his.


Olivia's hands trembled. The scent of eggs filled the cluttered kitchen. She shifted them around in the pan, remembering Walter talking to her, taking her mind off the anxiety that had been looming over her. For that moment she had felt free of fear.

Eggs would make her feel better. They would make her forget everything that had happened. _He_ would be alive. And she'd see _his_ cocky ass face tomorrow at work. They'd exchange some witty comments. They wouldn't worry about a mole in the department or merging universes. Everything would be in its right place. She would be home.

Eggs. The miracle cure.

But Walter was gone. He had left for the other side earlier that day, leaving her alone with a man whose face only reminded her of everything she had lost. Alone in this house of memories. A tomb. A stack of _his_ useless locker goods and a bottle of hard liquor sitting on the table in the other room. They shouldn't have meant anything to her. And yet they meant everything. Each time she walked past them she couldn't help but feel a bit farther from home. Worry and hatred and vengeance welling up in her gut.

Something was burning.

Glancing down she let out a cry, slamming the pan against the stove in frustration, the eggs burned to a caramelized crisp. With an angry flourish she turned off the stove, strolling across the room, throwing open the door of her apartment and stepping into the hallway. So much for a miracle cure. She had to get out of here.

It was only when she was halfway down the street that Olivia realized that she had no idea where she was going. And that she'd forgotten a jacket. And it was only early spring at two in the morning. Clutching her arms, she tried to keep composure. She was Olivia Dunham, that's what she did. When everyone else wanted to run away, she ran into the situation, guns blazing, ready to take whatever the hell the world threw in her way.

Then why am I running away right now?

She threw open the door of the nearest shop, surprised as it swung out easily. She stepped inside, relishing the warmth. Running away could at least be warm, right? Then wished that she could run back out. Even if it was cold outside. Even if it was two in the damn morning. There could have been an army of shape shifters all wanting to take her identity out on the street. It was better than staying in here.

_He _was sitting in the back, smiling one of his dopey grins at her. Instantly she felt herself relax, her face trying to return _his_ grin. Her heart beat faster, her cheeks flushing a bit. She hated it. She tried to suppress it and failed. Each time she looked at _his_ face, every time _he_ was near, her world seemed so much brighter. But it wasn't _him_. It never would be _him_.

Lincoln Lee is dead.

This was not the man that she fell in love with.

Yet she still walked towards him, sliding into the other side of the small booth. Folding her hands on the table and saying in a pleasant voice "I didn't know that insomnia was contagious?"

He let out a tired laugh "Only when you work in Fringe division."

She tried to force the enthusiasm out of her voice, but it was hell bent on staying "So why are you out so late anyway? Why are you here?" Stop asking in questions. Get up and leave. Leave now! Run away! Don't be a hero!

"Couldn't sleep, the hotel that I'm staying in is right down the street from here. They've gotten to know me pretty well here….wow." He shook his head, rubbing his temples with his fingers, once against laughing nervously.

"What?"

"De ja vu."

She gave him a questioning glance.

"Me and the…um other you…we had a conversation almost like this one. When I first joined Fringe division on the other side. I think it this very café, actually. One night when neither of us could sleep. Before Peter—" He swallowed hard, refusing to finish his sentence. He was guarding his words as well. But it only made sense. The woman that he loved had just abandoned him for the so called man of her dreams.

He was just as alone as she was. Just as lost. Trying desperately not to see another woman each time that he looked into her eyes, just as hard as she was trying to not see another man when she looked into his.

Oh shit.

She didn't know what she was doing. Her hands unfolded, she leaned across the table. Her heart beating faster than she had ever felt it before, her breath quick and nervous. Leave before you do something that you regret! Her head leaned forward; her lips touched his, her eyes closed to the world. They weren't _his_ lips, they would never be. _He_ was gone forever. She pulled away for a moment before she felt his hands fold around the back of her head, holding her close.

"Please," he whispered softly, his voice soft in her ear, almost pleading "don't leave."

She leaned forward once again, fear and hatred for that moment whipped away. For that instant she felt as though she had home, like she was someplace where she belonged.

"I'll never leave you. I promise."


End file.
